I sat in class the other day and across the table sprang up a discussion of only children, stemming from one classmate mentioning that she wasn’t raised to be a “girly-girly”. A few seats down, another gal mentioned how both girls knew immediately when they met that they were only children. Both girls are talkative and boisterous and one said, nodding knowingly, “You can pretty easily figure out who’s an only child.”
I felt like a ninja only child.
I’m on the non-boisterous end of the only child spectrum. I think that’s due to shuffling around the world as a child and developing the habit of being the observer before being a participant. It’s interesting that I’ve stumbled into rhetoric because the art of
persuasion manipulation is something you tend to learn as an only child. A line from the movie Now and Then struck me a long time ago. It said that a only child is “a typical upbringing for actors and pathological liars.”
I’ve enjoyed being an only child. The only downside is that I can’t hand off my daughter duties to a brother or sister with a harried phone call saying, “Deal with them already; I’m done for the week.” A lot of people seem skeptical to raising only children, but I would recommend it. My personal study seems to show that middle children have more issues than any only child I’ve ever met.
I’m going to try and have two children though. I would enjoy watching the dynamic even if I wasn’t able to experience it. And I can’t say I won’t be above goading them into fighting in the backseat like weevils in a small bag of flour. It’s damn hard to provoke the classic “Don’t make me turn this flippin’ car around” when you’re alone in the backseat.